


If By Chance

by trippingtozier



Category: Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: A little bit of angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance, bye, idk lmao i'm doing the best i can, so anyway i'm going back to shifting realities, there's a happy ending, ur welcome in advance, wait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trippingtozier/pseuds/trippingtozier
Summary: Spencer Reid is moping at your wedding until Morgan's decided he's had enough.Can I get a round of applause for this totally unoriginal plot idea?I literally ate a whole fucking Domino's pizza while writing this what the fuck.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	If By Chance

Chirping birds and faint shimmers of sunlight, along with the blaring chime of your alarm is what wakes you up. Blearily you rub your eyes and untangle yourself from his arms, turning to the side to brush his matted curls away from his eyes. He hums softly, barely awake, but awake enough to know what time it is. 

“Do you have to leave already?” He opens his arms, trying to coax you to lay back down, but you swing your legs over the side of the bed and laugh at the childlike expression on his face. 

“I wish I could stay, Spence,” you say. “But I gotta go.”

Spencer flips to his stomach, burrowing his head into his pillow, muttering a muffled, “Why?”

You stand up, pulling your jacket over the CalTech shirt you’d borrowed from him the night before. 

“I can’t be late for my own wedding.”

He doesn’t respond to that, choosing to listen as you rustle around his room, grabbing your shoes and handbag, picking up the ice cream wrappers you both had strewn around the night before. He can faintly smell your shampoo lingering on the pillows, and he breathes the scent in deeply, knowing this is probably the last time he’ll get a morning like this with you. 

He registers when the bed dips as you lean over to place a kiss on the top of his head. 

“Derek is going to get you at 1,” you state. “You guys better be on time. And dressed appropriately.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon, Spence.”

“Okay.”

**

Spencer’s been dreading this stupid wedding since the moment you’d run up him with his rose-gold invitation in hand. He wishes he could lie and say something came up, but you know him too well. You also know he has no life besides your movie nights and the occasional team dinner. 

_ ‘It’s your fault for letting her get close,’ _ his mind taunts.

He remembers when you first waltzed into the BAU, bright eyed and shy, worried about making a good first impression. He was lovestruck from the beginning; falling for you the first time you gave him a genuine smile and kissed his cheek after his word-vomit about the germs transmitted from shaking hands and how it would be more sanitary to kiss. 

He remembers the first time you’d slept over after inviting yourself into his apartment with a large pizza and shirley temples. He made you watch Star Trek, and you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. Instead of moving you, he’d pulled a blanket over the two of you and slept beside you. The next morning you’d made lumpy star-shaped pancakes and forced him to watch cartoons.

He remembers when you’d broken up with your last boyfriend after finding him in another girl's arms. You’d cried on Spencer’s shoulder for days, only stopping to use the bathroom and eat when he prodded you with pop-tarts and fruit salad. He remembers the way his heart broke seeing you curled into a tiny ball, asking why you weren’t good enough. He wished he wasn’t such a coward. He wished he had enough courage to ask you out. 

He remembers when you first met Drew. The team had been working on a child abduction case in Ohio, and Drew happened to be in the police department fixing computers. Drew had fallen for you right away, but of course Spencer can’t blame him for that. You’re irresistible with your crooked smile, and trusting gaze. You came back from the first date with a bouquet of flowers bigger than you and a grin that went on for miles. 

He remembers when you’d come into work with a big ring and a smile on your face- one of those smiles where your singular dimple shows. JJ and Garcia had enveloped you into a hug immediately, already talking about where to find the perfect dress. Morgan had come over to Spencer and elbowed him. “You shouldn’t have let it get this far, pretty boy,” he’d said. 

He remembers when you handed in your resignation, explaining that after the wedding you were moving to Ohio to be with Drew. He started crying in the jet’s bathroom as you anxiously knocked on the door and asked what was wrong. He couldn’t look at you for a few days without getting sick to his stomach.

Spencer remembers everything. 

All the movie nights, all the waking up cuddled on his couch, all the late night coffees, all the trips to the library, all the laughs, the smiles, the tears.

He wishes that for once, he could forget. 

**

You look beautiful. 

You have that glow about you- like an angel about to get her wings. You’re more ethereal than usual.

You catch his gaze once and he smiles at you sadly, feeling the pain in his heart weighing him down. He’s sorry he can’t feel more joy for you on the happiest day of your life.

Morgan watches him closely, profiling him. He tilts his head to whisper into Spencer’s ear. 

“What are the statistics for weddings with an objection?”

Spencer looks at him, caught off guard. 

“One in twenty two weddings have an objection, however you can’t object simply because you’re in love with the bride. If there’s no legal matter involved, the officiant will simply wait a few seconds for the wedding party to settle down and carry on. It’s not a big shock that only twenty percent of weddings get called off halfway through.”

“So you admit you’re in love with the bride?”

“What?”

“You said ‘you can’t object simply because you’re in love with the bride’.”

“Oh,” Spencer purses his lips, watching as Drew takes your hand. There goes the pain in his heart again.

“Say something right now.”

“What?”

“Stand up and stop the wedding, kid.”

“I can’t do that to her.”

“And I can’t watch you throw her away like this,” Morgan replies. 

Before he can be stopped, he stands up, clearing his throat. Spencer wishes he could melt in his seat. He wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He wishes the bullet that skimmed his neck had done more damage. 

“Sit down,” Spencer hisses, his voice raising in pitch. 

Instead of listening, Morgan clears his throat and waves an arm to get the officiant’s attention.

You look over when the officiant stops speaking, clearly puzzled by whatever’s happening.

“Morgan? What’s going on?” You ask.

Morgan quirks a finger in Spencer’s direction. 

“Pretty boy here has something he wants to say.”

“Spence? Is that true?” 

It’s dead silent in the church as everyone waits for the next move. Spencer swears he can hear his heart beating out of his chest. He feels like his heart might explode. He might spontaneously combust like Mary Reeser. 

He stands up on shaky legs as Morgan sits back down, clapping him on the back. He looks around, taking in the scene before him- Rossi and Hotch are masking their shock well, Garcia is gaping, JJ and Emily are shaking their heads, you’re twisting your hands anxiously. 

He knows he has a choice now. He can say nothing’s wrong and claim he just wanted to make an impromptu congratulatory speech, or he can confess to the feelings he’s been holding back for seven years before this goes on any longer.

“Hi,” Spencer says nervously. The two families are staring him down, not angry or displeased, just confused. “Most of you know me. For those of you who don’t, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid and I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Keep going,” Morgan urges quietly. 

Your name falls from Spencer’s lips, hushed and desperate. 

“When, um, when you walked into the BAU seven years ago with those pink and yellow butterfly clips that anatomically look nothing like a butterfly scattered in your hair, I knew there was something about you that was different. I just couldn’t place my finger on it until the night you showed up at my door with seven different ice creams just because they were on sale. That night, as you slept beside me with cake batter ice cream smeared across your chin, I remembered that there had been a study done with the conclusion that only one in ten thousand people are able to find their soulmate.”

“What are you saying?” You ask from the alter, watching the way he shoves his hands into his pocket. 

“I’m saying I found my soulmate. I’m saying,” he pauses to take a deep breath, trying to steady his shaky legs. “I’m saying I love you. I do. I love you so much, and I’ve held it in for seven years, and it just feels good to say it.”

There are gasps from the audience. Garcia is frantically wiping away tears. Emily is fighting back a smile. Hotch tries his best to look disapproving, but the crinkle besides his eyes betrays that he’s thrilled this is finally happening.

“I love everything about you, even the things I hate. I love the way you yawn in the morning, I love the scent of your lotion, I love that you can’t watch a movie without looking up the cast and crew, I love how you only put four ice cubes in a drink. I love you, and of course you don’t have to love me back- you don’t even have to talk to me after this- but I just couldn’t let you marry him without finally coming clean.” 

The room is quiet with anticipation. Everyone is staring at you now, 

You’ve become still. Scarily still. Spencer would think you’d become a Grecian statue if he couldn’t see your chest heaving. 

The silence is eventually broken by Drew, who brings a hand to your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Do you love him?” 

Spencer can’t profile you right now. All he reads is your nerves. He’s completely unsure if you’re going to move, or even speak. 

You look away from Drew, nervously gnawing on your lip. Then, you look at Spencer. He catches a single teardrop fall from your eye, landing on your left hand. 

_ ‘Nice going, _ ’ his mind drawls.  _ ‘You made her cry.’ _

“Yeah,” the answer is quiet, hushed. Muffled by the tears you’re choking back. “I think I’ve always loved him.”

Drew’s fists clench tightly by his side, but he doesn’t make a move. Spencer can’t imagine how shitty this must make him feel, but it’s hard to feel half as bad when you’re admitting your love. 

“I’m so sorry,” you sob. “I’m so sorry, Drew. I tried not to love him. I did.” 

Spencer wants nothing more than to rush to you and wipe your tears, but he doesn’t move. 

He doesn’t move when you take your engagement ring off and hand it back to Drew.

He doesn’t move when Drew kisses your forehead.

He doesn’t move when Drew walks towards him.

“You better take good care of her,” he says to Spencer, before walking out of what was supposed to be the best day of his life. His family follows him soon after. 

“Now what?” The officiant asks, probably expecting you to tell everyone to go home. Spencer can only assume this has never happened to him before.

“I know how expensive weddings are,” Spencer says, feeling around in his pocket and pulling out a paper clip. “On average, weddings in America are almost thirty-four thousand dollars, not including the ring and dress. Dresses are usually in the thousand dollar range, which, in my opinion, is an awful lot to spend on something you’ll only wear once. Not even to mention the honeymoon, which is at  _ least _ five thousand.” He’s wrestling the paper clip into somewhat of a circle. “I guess what I’m trying to say is you shouldn’t waste this wedding.”

You watch as he moves from his seat to come towards you, tears still coming out in a silent stream. Spencer feels tiny with all these eyes on him, but he stands in front of you now, makeshift ring in hand.

“Please,” he says, getting onto one knee. “I know this isn’t the Cullinan diamond, fuck it’s not even a real ring, but I just… I’ll go to the ends of the earth for you. I’ll walk the length of the Nile River for you. I’ll spend every day trying to make you happy, trying to keep you safe. Will you please marry me and officially make me one of ten thousand to find their soulmate?” 

Without saying a word, you take the clip from Spencer, sliding it onto your ring finger. He looks at you with all the love and adoration he can muster. His heart is bubbling in his chest. 

“Is, um, is that a yes?”

“It’s a fuck yes, Spence” you reply as the crowd goes wild. 

** 

As he’s staring at his beautiful bride laying beside him where it all started this morning, Spencer makes a mental note to thank Morgan later. After he bonks him over the head with the heaviest book he can find.

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours, Spence?”

He takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as your lips turn up into a smile.

You’re in his CalTech shirt again, hair thrown up messily. You look radiant. 

“Nothing. Just thinking about how beautiful you look.”

You snort, sitting up to look down at him. His curls fan out on the pillow behind him, his brown eyes look up at you with stars fluttering around the pupils.

“Spencer Reid, I think we can unanimously agree that you’re the beautiful one in this relationship.”

His eyes shine as he gazes at you. It’s the first time anyone’s ever loved him like this, and he can  _ feel _ it. It’s a love that sinks deep into his bones. It curls around his heart, making his chest feel so tight with happiness he might just burst. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“And I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. 

“You want me to move in? Here?”

You guess this shouldn’t come as a shock since you’re married, but it does anyway. Spencer’s always been a fairly private person. You’ve slept over at his place hundreds of times, but he’s always seemed hesitant to let you in. He’s always shuffling things around, pushing them in closets out of view. 

He stands up from the bed, moving to his dresser, where he opens a drawer and dumps the contents on the floor. All of his mismatched socks land in a pile at his feet. 

“This can be yours, just to start. And, um,” he rushes to his nightstand on your side of the bed and shoves everything off the top of it. “this can be your side, officially. I can clear off the bathroom counter tomorrow morning and it can be your space for makeup and hair stuff, or whatever. I mean, if you don’t want to move in or want me to move to your place or just get a new place altogether that would be fine with me. I totally understand if you don’t want to move in at all, I don’t know if this is all moving too quickly for you. I just figured we could save some money, or whatever, but honestly the real estate market is doing really good, better than it’s done in three years, so I guess-”

You cut off his rambling with a sweet kiss, curling your fingers in his hair. When you pull away, you smile at him.

“Spence, I’d love to move in with you.”

“Really?”

“God yes. It’s perfect here. It’s going to be our  _ home _ .”

Spencer smiles at the excitement in your voice. He smiles at the vibes that radiates from the word ‘home’. He can’t explain how thrilled he is to start a home with you. 

There’s a warmth spreading through you as he hesitantly wraps an arm around your waist to kiss you again, this time lingering. His embrace feels safe and secure. It feels like  _ home _ . 

“I can't believe we waited seven years,” you say, leaning on your tiptoes to press your forehead to his. 

“It’s a long time to waste,” he agrees. 

“I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Spencer’s grasp on you tightens when your soft tone becomes more dire. He’s pulling you closer, breathing in your scent. His hands run up and down your sides gently, skirting underneath your shirt to let his fingertips dance against your skin. Ever so slowly, he finds your hardening nipples, sending a shiver down your back. 

“Spence, we don’t have to do this if you want to move slower.”

His face glows in the dim light of his room- he has slightly swollen lips and flushed cheeks. 

“I have never wanted you more in my life,” he says, pulling your shirt over your head. 

He lets you remove his as you look over his shadow-toned figure- all collarbones, and lanky arms, and thighs too thick for their own good. 

He pulls you in again, lustier this time, more desperate. You’re right there to reciprocate, bringing your own needy hands to his unruly curls. 

It feels right- you and Spencer. Like two puzzle pieces finally coming together to become one. 

“You’re so perfect,” you whisper in between kisses. 

Your hushed name falls from his lips as he nudges you backwards towards the bed, only breaking from you to come between your legs when you fall back. 

“Spence,” you mumble. 

His lips find your neck, moving lower. 

Collarbones, breasts, stomach.

He removes your flannel pajama pants, taking the panties you’d been wearing off with them. His movements are so slow, so full of devotion to you. 

You’re jello under his touch, nothing but a pile of mush and shaky limbs. 

“Please, Spence,” you moan. “Make me yours.”

“Say that again.” He’s looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. 

“Make me yours.”

“Again.”

“Please, make me yours. Let the whole world know I’m yours.” It comes out as a whimper, pathetic and desperate, but Spencer is looking at you like you’ve just given him the moon and all the stars. He’s proud, and patient, and loving. Your legs are shaking with anticipation. “I love you so much, Spence.”

He leans between your legs to leave purple bruises in his wake. You’re putty in his hands, and he knows it.

By the time his mouth reaches your throbbing clit, you’re already in a cloud of bliss, pulling him in with the motion of your hips, quietly whimpering his name. Begging, begging, begging. 

He likes watching you fall apart beneath him. He feels you clenching around his prodding tongue. You’re sweeter than anything he’d ever imagined, and he can finally admit that he’s imagined this a lot. 

He feels your grip on his hair tighten when he rubs over your clit with his nose, and that’s when it hits you. He can feel it through your uncontrolled trembling and your spasming cunt.

Your thighs tighten around his head, involuntarily shaking as wave after wave of pleasure comes crashing over you. Your mind is filled, but only with thoughts of him, as “ _ Spencer, Spencer, Spencer _ ,” leaves your mouth. His hands tether you to the bed, keeping you from completely losing yourself. They’re warm and hot. So gentle and loving. 

Slowly he pushes himself up from his knees, and fuck- you look so beautiful he wants to marry you all over again. He sees is a goddess falling apart beneath him. 

“I fucking love you,” he says as you open your eyes. 

“Spencer Reid,” you chuckle sitting up, eyes glossy with love, “you’ll love me even more after I repay you for that fucking orgasm.”

His hands find your face, tracing over your jaw with gentle fingers. 

“I just wanna be in you,” he admits. 

“I don’t see a problem with that.”

He knows he should prepare you, he knows, but he’s desperate, so he just pushes his own pajama pants off and slicks himself up before pushing into you. 

“Shit,” you hiss as you shift your hips for him to slide in easier. “You‘re fucking huge.”

Spencer drops his head into the crook of your neck, biting it along the way. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he pants as he bottoms out. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, no,” that’s all you can say as he thrusts into you, drawing thick moans from the back of your throat. You feel so fucking full. Everything  _ Spencer  _ surrounds you. “Here, here wait.” 

You push on his shoulder to get the hint to roll over on his back. He goes willingly, and you rush to straddle his hips and sink down onto his cock. 

“Are you sure?”

“Let me show you how good you made me feel, Spence.”

He’s about to start speaking when you roll your hips, and his eyes almost roll all the way back into the depth of his skull. 

He’s lost in the way your pussy feels, curses falling from his pretty lips as he fucks up into you. You lean forward to plant kisses up his chest, marking him so that you can make sure this really happened in the morning. You clench around him, sending him into a frenzy that has him on the verge of tears. 

He’s so hard, painfully hard, and when he comes, you swear you can see your lower stomach bulge out from the amount of come he’s got shooting up into you. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps out. “Didn’t mean for that to happen so fast. Didn't wear a condom.”

“Spence,” you lean down to kiss him between shaky breaths. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”

He looks up at you as you dismount from his cock, hissing quietly from the sensitivity. 

“Besides, we have for the rest of forever to do it again.” 

“You want to spend forever with me?” He asks. 

You hum quietly, nuzzling into his neck as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest. 

“Yeah,” you reply. “And then some.”

**Author's Note:**

> hiii congrats on surviving :)   
> none of the content or characters are owned by me although I wish they were


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